


a world without stars

by crimtastic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Gen, Grief, Heavy Angst, Loss, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimtastic/pseuds/crimtastic
Summary: They were gone.Everything connected together. Why she had survived so long. Why she couldn’t put work down, why she had to keep going, why she had to do more.





	1. dusk

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for Ladies of Marvel Bingo 2019, square D4 "Sunset".
> 
> It is full of frustrations of that movie, hopefully it's not difficult to follow where I veered off.

They had lost.

There was a weight that came with such a defeat. A heavy burden that weighed on everyone’s shoulders. Natasha had thought she’d positioned herself in such a way to pull the errant pieces together at the last moment, assuring success. But for all that the Red Room and SHIELD had prepared her for, a spaceship dancing in and out of sight was not a circumstance she could foresee, leaving them without one of their best defenders. They had fought hard, an even with him gone, success had been a hand-breadth away.

After the battle ended, their failure complete, they reconvened at the Avengers facility to go over the list of casualties. It was a small favor that they caught Fury’s decimation on camera from a bank’s security feed or she wouldn’t have believed it. Losing him and Maria was hell. The only consolation was a pager Fury had dropped was active for days, beckoning reinforcements. Natasha usually wouldn’t put much weight in outside help, but it’s not like she had any other option. Thanos’ snap had been painfully selective on leadership, leaving a void that was difficult and yet so very dangerous to fill. But with the world in shambles, Fury and Maria gone - hell, even _Ross_ was gone - she wasn’t sure who could take that role.

Meeting Carol had been a shock. Rarely could one sneak up on their team, let alone into the heavily secured facility, without_ some_ sort of alert. But the woman had stood there with her hands fisted, demanding for Fury and, failing that option, for answers. Carol knew of Thanos, knew of his army, and slid over to the console displaying the many names caught in the Decimation. She swiped along until she found a pair of names that hovered on the screen.

With the name Rambeau blinking ‘MISSING’ on the screen, Carol silently left, causing them all to wonder if they’d imagined the meeting.

A week had passed, then, somehow, Carol brought Tony back. The man was dangerously near death and full of resentment, with another alien who Rocket knew named Nebula. Despite the relief that Tony showed upon his arrival, it was only minutes before bitter mourning overtook him. While they had somewhat acclimated to the grief that was everywhere, impossible to avoid, Tony was overwhelmed. Natasha had years of experience working next to him, so she said nothing when he held his court, his judgment. Rhodey tried to assuage him, but the wounds were too fresh. Each had their own techniques for repressing the pain and there was no point in arguing with Tony. There were precious few who even dared to bother.

As Tony was shuffled off to recover, his body dangerously close to death, a bloom of hope sprouted. The first in weeks. The ship he had arrived in had gathered energy readings of the Infinity Stones being used once more. It breathed life into Natasha. They all immediately left Earth to explore the stars, searching for the evil that had cursed their universe. 

It seemed like the only option at the time.

But as they traveled through space, uncertainty began to build. She was used to slipping on different personalities to get things done. Instead, they were running straight into danger, without a clear idea of what lay in front of them except that there would be no more chances. Fear vibrated under her skin, forcing her to pull belts and straps tighter, tighter, tight, so her thoughts wouldn’t float off into the void. If this didn’t work...

But they were too late. That hopeful energy signature had been proof of the end.

They’d failed before they’d even begun.

They’d had failed missions before, certainly, but never like this. Natasha had felt shame before, the moment her programming broke and she realized how many horrors she’d inflicted, how many lives had suffered, how many deaths she had caused. The red in her ledger had been wiped clean over the lives she’d saved over the years but was once again dripping in black with her failures. It draped around her like a heavy cloak, squeezing her, choking her. 

Her friends, her family, gone. Wanda, the bond between them akin to sisters. Bucky, the familiarity of their experiences connecting them in a way few could. Sam, with his good nature and skill at making her feel human.

Gone.

She lightened it the only way she knew how, with work. Natasha wasn’t sure who she’d be without work. She set to balancing as many of the spinning plates of Fury’s that she could find.

Fortunately, the others appreciated her directives, likely feeling as lost as she did. The world was shattered and it would take more than just technology to mend it. Tears, sweat, and blood were all shed those early days as they uncovered those buried under rubble, the victims of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But while she was busy holding the threads of society together, organizing relief teams and finding ways to ship supplies, the team crumbled. 

Tony retreated into himself, into his comforts, taking Pepper - the woman at a loss with his current attitude - with him to a lakeside cabin. Thor left for Norway to lead his people and promptly dove into a bottle. Steve stayed in the city, working at a Crisis Center on building blocks of normalcy while also leading support groups for loss. Bruce followed him, the shortage of doctors and capable hands pulling him into the painful world.

Clint fell off the map.

Natasha had taken the Quinjet alone to the farm, terrified of what she would find. The house was abandoned and there were hints of Clint quickly spiraling down a dark path. Glass bottles were spread around a box that sat in the middle of the room, all of his equipment missing from it and dozens of passports with his family’s faces smiling up at her. Blood lined the sink in the bathroom with scraps of hair and the bed had been rumpled just enough to showcase what little sleep he’d managed before he’d left.

Cataloging the evidence, she returned back to the facility. It was a short amount of time before Clint made his presence known. She could follow his path from the farm around the east coast, pinging on her radar, as he collected more and more equipment and evidence of who was taking advantage of an anguished world. 

Natasha let him be. She wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to find him. She wasn’t sure what she could say. After all, she’d failed him and let evil snap away his family.

Natasha lost track of time. Her hair grew back into the red, the disguise irrelevant, and she began to braid it to keep it out of the way. The weeks stretched on, the world getting moderately better but feeling no different to her. Steve would visit her from time to time, driving up on his motorcycle to sneak into the back of the facility and surprise her.

This continued for months. Steve would always arrive with a sad smile and offer insights on the work haphazardly spread across her desk. Those nights were precious in a way she couldn’t even explain, their friendship tempered from years of teamwork and mutual appreciation for each other's strengths, forged with pain from such loss. 

Then, almost a year after the Decimation, came an evening where he arrived, subterfuge discarded as his motorcycle grumbled its presence down the road. She was wandering the grounds under the guise of checking the perimeter, a useless pursuit as nothing had truly tested it in months. Instead, her head was tilted up to the sky, watching the stars begin to shimmer into view as the sun set. She could hear Steve kick the stand on his motorcycle down and approach her.

“Natasha,” Steve’s voice had been deceptively soft. Turning to him, Natasha read the lines of grief on his face, alarming her instantly.

“What happened?” Gone were the days that she knew things before he did. She was too focused on every other corner of the planet, the universe, her net cast wide into space to circumvent any new threat that would take even more from them during Earth’s weakened state. 

Steve reached out to tug her upper arm, pulling her closer. She stumbled into his embrace, feeling oddly bumbling and uncertain. Steve didn’t notice, dipping his face into her hair, hands tense.

“When were you going to tell me about Clint?” he asked in a murmur.

She felt herself freeze, guilt instantly flooding her. Shaking her head, she bit down hard on both of her lips. Steve pulled back to squeeze her shoulders, eyes searching her face somberly.

“When you asked,” she finally whispered. “Why?”

“I ran into him,” Steve said. “Found a kid in a back alley, went to investigate, found Clint making short work of the criminals that have been responsible for the last 6 months of disappearances from the Pier-”

“I wanted to go after him, but every time I start to leave, I-” she interjected before breaking off.

Steve frowned. The pressure increased on her shoulders, anchoring her.

“-I didn’t because I don’t know how to make it right. They’re- They’re all gone. Coop and Lils and Nate. Laura might have been able to pull him back, but-”

Tears blinded her vision. Natasha would like to think the tears were rare, but ever since the Decimation, she couldn’t go back to her crafted stoicism. It had been shattered, like her programming long ago, and her failures buoyed a constant state of grief.

To her surprise, though, tears were streaming down Steve’s cheeks as well. An expression of understanding, his own pain on display, caused her hand to reach up and touch his cheek. There was no judgment from him. He steadfastly believed in the _good_ in people, no matter how she or others may have faltered from that ideal. It reminded her of long ago, with Steve’s earnest expression in Sam’s apartment. While they had been colleagues before, a bond had formed in that moment when he admitted to trusting her, trust that wedged underneath her heart and guided her during the darkness moments of her life since.

Steve anchored her, his conviction steadfast in what was _right_.

“It’s my fault,” Steve said softly. “I shou-”

“Steve, you couldn’t-”

“I should have asked about him before,” he repeated over her interruption. “I knew where everyone else went, and, well, it’s been _months_, Natasha. I should have checked.”

“But there’s nothing you could do,” she whispered, a strong wave of emotion cutting into her chest. The cavity that grew there seemed to never ease, only grow and grow and grow.

Steve gave a sigh, shoulders dropping as his form sank in defeat, shaking his head. It was a tired argument, one that accomplished nothing but floated between them silently anyway.

“Maybe not, but I’m going to try. Bring him home, remind him that he still has family.”

“All right.”

The silence weighed on both of them. He squeezed her shoulder once more before releasing her and stepping back.

“He was heading towards D.C. I’m leaving tonight.”

Natasha nodded. She didn’t expect anything less.

It took a week for Steve to finally catch up with Clint. The wayward Avenger had been crisscrossing the east coast, searching out all the darkest cells of the underground, which had led him straight through New York City and into Steve’s area. He then continued on south, heading straight into Washington D.C.

Usually, she’d wonder what was taking Steve so long, but he sent her status updates, explaining the good Clint was doing when he wasn’t distracted with other darker purposes.

_Clint’s not just dispatching all of the crime lords of the country. He’s also a regular Robin Hood. Stole a whole shipment of sundries from a target, simply warning him not to take advantage of people before distributing it. Also clearing out abandoned buildings for people, making small communities where folks can look after each other._

It was a small comfort to know that even if Clint was exacting vigilante justice, he was also helping people. It eased the guilt of letting him run rampant for so long.

After that message, however, Steve went silent despite the multiple messages she sent. Day one was met with annoyance, day two with concern, and day three she was ready to requisition one of Stark’s high-performance vehicles left in the garage to head down there herself when he finally called.

“He’s in bad shape, Nat,” Steve said over the line. “Someone found him before I did.”

“Someone?” she asked. 

“A woman named Ava. She’d been hunting for him for a while. Didn’t expect me to show up,” he explained. “Took a minute to get her to stop.”

“What did she want with Clint? Revenge?”

“No, she was searching for Clint since Sam-” Steve’s voice faltered.

Natasha frowned. They’d had proof of Sam’s decimation with the Falcon’s suit disintegrating on their monitors like all of their other friends. Apart from the gaping loss to those left behind, Sam had held the keys to less than legal underground groups.

“Ava was in a scientific accident as a child, which causes her body to phase in and out of reality,” Steve tried again. A large enough scientific accident had to involve SHIELD, prompting Natasha to start mentally cycling through all of the cover-ups in the past few decades.

“She knows that Clint was sent to pick up Scott Lang a couple years ago.” Steve’s careful words, avoiding a mention to Sam again didn’t surprise her. The Falcon had met Ant-Man in less than ideal circumstances initially. “And she’s insistent that Scott isn’t dead and his team was on a mission to get something that would heal her. But Scott never returned. _Returned_, Nat.”

If any other person had offered such information, she would have dismissed it entirely. But Steve had good instincts.

Natasha had posted notices for Ant-Man, but there had been no bites. Considering how focused the man was on receiving a plea deal that let him see his daughter after the blow out in Germany, she initially had no doubts that he had been decimated like all the others. The man wouldn’t have stayed away from his family. But if he was alive somewhere? And if Steve managed to find him...

“So what’s your next move?” she asked.

“Ava is in bad shape,” Steve sighed. “Her equipment is in San Francisco and that was the last known location for Lang anyway. So we’re going that way and will poke around. See if we can find anything.”

“Understood.”

She ended the call, annoyed at the seedling of hope that was sprouting in her chest.

A few days passed before a message alerted her that Steve had arrived in San Francisco.

She tried to distract herself, trying to forget the possibility of them finding Scott. As far as she knew, no one but the man himself knew the capabilities of his tech, so there wasn’t much to theorize. It was another week of her working, breaking up her days with hours at the shooting range when she was interrupted by an alert at the gate.

The visual feed pointed directly at a brown van that a practically buoyant Steve jumped out to input the passcode while Scott Lang waited at the wheel. She caught a glance of Steve climbing back in as her hands shook so badly with the surge of excitement that she set the gun down immediately. Rushing out to the courtyard to meet them, adrenaline pumping for the first time since their interstellar trip, her mind pinged over the possibilities that Scott's return signified. The van hadn’t even skidded to a stop when Steve jumped out of it. Clint and Scott exited the vehicle at a more sedate pace while Steve ran to her with hope in his eyes.

“What do you have?” she asked.

“We could go back, Nat. We could fix everything.”

It took a while for Scott to explain through a mouthful of a peanut butter sandwich the concept of time travel before passing out on the couch for a few hours from sheer exhaustion. Natasha understood just enough of the principles they were working with and that they could technically take all the time they wanted. But once Scott started working properly on the theory, it was clear they needed someone else. So, a day or two later, Natasha packed up Steve and Scott and headed out. Steve was solemn the entire way up, expression dubious. She could practically hear his thoughts, blaming himself and expecting Tony to say no. 

But Natasha had to try.

The cabin set against the lake backdrop was soothing and felt entirely too alien to Natasha. Slamming the door shut, she glanced around before resting her eyes on Tony, standing on his porch with a cautious expression. 

The meeting went as well as could be expected. Tony was surprisingly cordial at their unannounced arrival, but rejected all of Scott’s theories, throwing out terms to shut it down. Natasha could see the deflection, could see it take the fight right out of Scott. Natasha even tried an appeal, but no. Tony was a dead-end.

She didn’t really understand why until a wailing cry broke the tense silence of their staredown.

“You’re up,” Pepper said to Tony as she stepped out onto the porch, the man instantly standing up to relieve her of the baby in her arms. “Hello, everyone.”

“Thank you,” Tony said under his breath to Pepper, who gave him a tight smile. Tony tucked the baby under his chin and began to bounce in a particular way that instantly soothed the crying child.

“Congratulations,” Natasha said, nodding to the baby decked out in flowery clothing. “How old is she?”

“Thank you. She’s ten weeks. Say hello, Morgan Hope Stark,” Pepper replied as Tony turned so they could all see the baby’s squishy face. Morgan closed her eyes as a big yawn escaped her with a gurgling sound at the end. “She’s just been fed, so I’ll let you get her down while I serve lunch.”

“You’re all welcome to stay, as long as you don’t talk shop,” Tony said over his shoulder as he walked into the cabin. “Otherwise, good to see you.” 

Thus dismissed, there was an awkward pause as they all looked at each other. Scott grumbled under her breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. Pepper held a polite smile on her face. “So I’ll set the table for five-”

“No, thank you,” Steve said, watching as Scott started to walk to the car. “We need to hit the road.” 

As Steve and Scott headed to the car, Natasha gave Pepper a tight smile. “Congratulations again. She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said. “She helps keep Tony distracted. He’s had a rough time.”

“Yes,” Natasha replied politely. It was tempting to point out that everyone was having a rough time, that the universe was fundamentally changed, but she discarded the thought in a blink.

“He’s improved since Morgan was born,” Pepper continued. “His appetite is better now, at least. Morgan sleeps so much better with him because he’s up half of the night walking her, working through his demons that keep him up anyway.”

“Has he talked-”

“No.” Pepper shook her head. “He won’t talk about space.”

“I see,” she said. Natasha remembered the days when she was an assistant to them both, even if it was undercover. She remembered how Tony’s sleep schedule had always been difficult. The tension between the two, when Tony struggled with his legacy and Pepper had to compensate for those blunders.

Natasha had been friends to them long before the term Avengers had ever been uttered, so she was unsurprised by Tony’s reluctance. He’d lost but gained. He could lose again.

The car doors closed and Natasha looked over at Steve and Scott, buckling in, ready to go. Giving Pepper a small smile, she leaned up to kiss the woman’s cheek. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Be safe,” Pepper said with worried eyes. The woman had firsthand experience of just how stubborn they all were when an idea took hold, but Natasha couldn’t think of any words to reassure her. Instead, she gave a small wave as she walked and climbed into the car.

“That was a waste of time,” Scott grumbled from the back seat.

“Did you know?” Steve asked her.

“About Morgan? No,” she replied. “Tony’s been cloistered up here for months with Pepper. There’s been no indication of anything amiss so... I let him be.”

“A kid, though. After everything-”

Natasha remained silent. She knew better than anyone how many children had been lost due to the decimation and how many were still struggling to survive. Steve’s crisis center was still overridden with kids, never enough hands for the amount of care needed for all.

Steve sighed. “Well, we offered him a chance. Tony only helps on his own terms. We’ll find someone else.”

“Who?” Scott asked, looking incredulous. “Is there a Genius Emporium you guys frequent?”

“Head into the city,” Natasha said, ignoring Scott’s sarcasm, and Steve changed lanes. “There’s definitely some options still.”

“-just need to go over the math-”

The words obviously weren’t connecting with the man sitting with them at the table. His hair was askew and his button up shirt was wrinkled, eyes bloodshot behind rimmed glasses. Natasha filled his cup with more coffee which prompted him to send her a small smile.

“Thanks,” Bruce muttered. Natasha nodded as she set down the pot left on their table. She’d complicated her relationship with Bruce in the past and no matter how cordial they were, it was still awkward. Steve shifted next to her, ignoring the elephant at the table to the best of his ability.

“Look, Miss Widow here has all the equipment ready at the facility-” Scott’s rambling caused Natasha to raise her eyebrows. _Miss Widow?_

A stabbing pain began to radiate behind her eyes so she took a sip from her glass of water. Steve fiddled with his fork, staring at his empty plate, the scarce food being packed away in quick order. Natasha was simply glad that they’d found a place to eat. Most restaurants had been either repurposed by food banks working with the military or completely shut down. She hadn’t been to the city in months, but Steve had brought them straight here after snagging Bruce from the crisis center.

“Even if we manage to get to the testing phase, how much Pym Particles do you even have?” Bruce asked. “It’s absurdly dangerous, and there’s no guarantee we could bring you back-”

“But you could do it,” Steve said.

“Ehh, possibly?” Bruce said, unsure. “This is working with concepts I haven’t dabbled with in a couple of years, and-”

“You’re our best bet right now, Bruce,” Natasha said softly.

Bruce sighed.

The tests did not go well. Bruce was doing his best and Natasha still couldn’t believe Scott would errantly throw himself into such an experiment without more of a guarantee. After a few terrifying moments of watching their friend span multiple ages, they finally got Scott back to his proper age she ducked out of the room.

A walk was what she needed. Space to run the frustration dry as tears threatened. This was normal. Tests were there for a reason. It made planning for the worst easier. She walked outside, taking a lungful of air in as she spotted a car driving up the road. It was sleek and accelerating far too fast for the small windy road that led up to the facility.

Tony.

"Hey," Steve said as he appeared at her side. She eyed him warily, the thought of _Tony only helps on his own terms_ floating through her mind.

"I'll go tell Bruce and Scott," Natasha said as she stepped back. She didn’t need to talk to Tony. Steve nodded grimly before walking forward to greet Tony. She could see the stiffness in Steve’s gait, donning metaphorical armor to deflect the inevitable jabs Tony would dish out.

Pausing by the door, she watched them. The onslaught of derision never came, at least, not in any way that Steve betrayed. Tony simply moved to the back of the car to open the hatchback and rummage inside. Natasha felt the bite of a surprise when the red white and blue shield appeared, Tony holding it out.

Natasha turned away at that point, knowing that _that _gesture spoke volumes. She rushed back to the hangar, knowing that it would be best to prepare for the upheaval that was sure to hit the labs.

After reconvening and proving their theories correct, they held a meeting and Natasha felt that bite of hope once again. She refused to engage it, knowing that all the plans they’d ever had involving the Infinity Stones had gone to shit. So they deliberated for hours, combining all of their experience and knowledge of the stones, building itineraries and arguing who should go on what mission. While everyone seemed alright with letting a larger team go to 2012 for a bulk pack of Infinity Stones, there was a bit of contention on the other missions. Thor was quick to ask Rocket to accompany him, who quipped in agreement almost instantly. Nebula’s sudden insistence on taking the mission to Vormir made Steve shift next to Natasha, obviously concerned with the interest.

“I should go,” Nebula said. Tony sent her a sharp look.

“Wouldn’t you be better to go with Rhodey?” Tony said. “You know Quill. You know what to expect from him if the mission goes sideways.”

Natasha could read the anger on Nebula - the blue woman didn’t attempt to hide it. Tony repeated, “you’re needed in Morag.”

Natasha eyed the two critically. The undercurrent of Tony’s words didn’t escape her. There had been a mutual understanding between the two, different from Tony’s other friendships, and the blue woman acquiesced by glaring at Rhodey.

“Quill’s a moron. It will be easy,” she said.

“So Clint and I will head out with you and head to Vormir. Is there anything about the planet we should know?” Natasha asked before Rhodey could quip something. 

“It’s barren,” Nebula said. “No one would suspect it for holding one of the keys to the universe.”

“And how do you know for sure it’s where the Soul Stone is?” Steve asked.

“Gamora knew what was at stake. She burned the map. The first act of defiance to father,” Nebula replied, straightening. “She definitely found it.”

Natasha bit her tongue so hard she could taste a tinge of copper. She could read the abuse on each move that Nebula made, the years of training and torture. The desire for one person to be in her corner when she struggled through all odds. And Nebula obviously believed in her sister with all her being. 

But Natasha still felt doubt.

Despite all of her reservations, the walk across the hangar to the giant platform to take them on their respective journeys felt hopeful. Clint gave her a lopsided grin as they approached, slowly taking their places. Natasha breathed out nervously, their hands coming together as they prepared to jump into the unknown. The solution to escape this hellscape buoyed her and words escaped her before she could help it.

As Steve began a speech, the stakes clearly laid out, Natasha took a moment to look over the group. Tony was giving a small smile to Steve, strangely optimistic. Nebula and Rhodey were solemn. Thor was sober, listening to Steve’s words with rapt attention while Rocket looked on with mild disbelief. She could feel the energy radiating off Clint and Scott, both ready to fix this world and bring their families home. Bruce walked up after setting the coordinates and took his position.

“Good luck,” Steve finished, stepping back.

Hope bloomed with full force in Natasha’s chest and she smiled at Steve. This would work. All of the failures had led them to this place, to this science, to this solution.

“See ya in a minute.”

_Whatever it takes_.

The words echoed through her head and she felt almost drunk with purpose as she surveyed the scenery. The landscape of Vormir was beautiful, the deep purples and golden dunes in the distance a pleasant pallette. A dense fog was over the rest of the mountain, obscuring the sky and stars, except for a small peek of sun streaming through the clouds. An orange sunset for the dusky world. 

_Whatever it takes._

Adrenaline pumped through her as she stood up from her perch, her heart beating wildly as she walked towards Clint. Everything connected together. Why she had survived so long. Why she couldn’t put work down, why she had to keep going, why she had to do more.

Why it had to be her.

She could do it for those she loved.

Natasha glanced up at Clint, eyes clear of tears for the first time in months. He looked somberly back at her and she knew exactly what he was going to say.

But she wouldn’t let him.

_Let me go._

She focused entirely on the thought. The air howled around her, ever mourning the lost, but she couldn’t feel the chill in the air. She was resigned to this fate, pleading with her eyes up at Clint as he gripped her limp wrist.

_Let me go_.

He was only prolonging the inevitable. The moment hung, her swinging like a pendulum as he struggled. He was in no position to pull her back up _and_ send himself over the cliff. Someone would have to return home with the stone.

_Let me go_.

Finally, her feet connected with the rock at the same time his muscles tired. She could see the anger on Clint’s face, the tears lining his cheeks, but they didn’t register. His grip finally failed as she wrenched her form back, gravity cradling her as she fell.

Time slowed. She thought of the first time she met her family. Each moment flashed through her mind, years in the making, and they were all mostly unremarkable.

Pepper pouring wine for each of them as she bemoaned the intricacies of managing Tony after that introduction by the boxing ring. Recruiting Bruce and tipping her hand of how much he actually scared her that first meeting. How freshly pressed Steve was when she first met him and his insistence on calling her _ma’am_ for so long. Thor’s boisterous arrival, insisting on being the one to deal with his brother. 

With Clint’s broken face drifting from view, Natasha remembered how he pulled her out of her programmed state and brought her into SHIELD. How Coulson had been dubious at first, but Fury had given her a hard stare with his good eye. 

_Give her space and the resources to look into what she needs. I’ve seen worse._

She’d never found out who Fury had meant.

With the tip of the cliff fading from view, she knew that she was almost gone. The failure she’d felt since Thanos had snapped his fingers would finally be undone. 

Her body was numb. Darkness lined her vision.

And rock met her body.

Her soul peeled away the despaired shell of her body, a negligible tug as her spirit found no purchase in the sudden death. The world flashed amber and she knew no more.


	2. dawn

Awareness was sudden.

“You’re something else, Agent Romanoff,” the voice was instantly recognizable as Fury’s, but it held an edge to it that caused her to stiffen. When had she been standing? It was difficult to see through the amber darkness, a stream of light peeking from the end of... a cave?

“But you’ve done us proud,” his voice shifted, softening. Squinting at the light, she could see the shadowed silhouette of the man and another familiar woman. Fury. And Maria. Both of them in their telltale military gear and Natasha felt relief pass over her. The area they were standing in reminded her of when Fury had gone underground, faking his death. It would figure the pair would stick to familiarity of an underground.

“You’re not dead,” Natasha said.

“Of course we’re not dead!” Fury barked in his loud, indignant way. “Did Carol get my page?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “She left shortly after to...”

Fury waved her off. “She operates on her own. Always has. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Status of the team?” Maria asked.

“Begrudgingly working together. This is the last attempt.”

Fury and Maria glanced at each other, but due to the distorted light, Natasha could read none of it.

“You’ve done all that you can, Agent Romanoff,” Fury said. “Well done.”

A flash of light hit the ground as the cave suddenly exploded, light and scenery bursting in front of her, causing Natasha to jump back. By the time her eyes adjusted, Fury and Maria were gone.

Natasha wandered. The world was endless with its various terrains. No feeling of hunger or tiredness seemed to affect her, so her feet met a steady rhythm as she continued on her journey. Was this all the afterlife was? Picturesque landscapes, comforting scents, a sense of wistful belonging, without any purpose? Did life simply end in limbo?

Nevertheless, she persisted. There seemed to be a flatland in the distance, hills cleared of anything obstructive if you ignored the mud pits.

“Auntie Nat!”

The shriek startled Natasha who could see someone waving at her from the distance, running towards her. She felt uncertainty for the slightest of moments before stepping into a run herself.

_Nathan._

The boy was followed closely by two older children and a woman. 

_Lila. Cooper. Laura._

Sinking to her knees, Natasha was overwhelmed by Nate wrapping his arms around her neck, his baseball glove thrown off in excitement as he jumped on her. Lila was not far behind. Cooper waited patiently, hand gripping Natasha’s shoulder as she was soon enveloped by each of them.

The moment was bittersweet. They would leave her soon.

She hoped. She desperately hoped.

At least she was able to say goodbye.

“Why are you crying?” Nathan pulled away to touch her cheek.

“I’m just so happy to see you,” she whispered. “Your dad is working so hard to get you home, junior.”

“And you haven’t?” Laura asked, tears trailing down her own face. “Natasha...”

She shook her head, standing to embrace Laura as well. The woman squeezed her hard and it was like the click of a lock. The tears she’d be so careful to keep at bay found their release and Natasha clung to Laura as sobs overtook her, squeezing her eyes shut.

Her beautiful family, torn between two worlds, and she was hopefully going to lose all of them. She had no deluded hope of returning.

A wave of comfort blasted into Natasha, disorienting her. It felt like a soft breeze, loosening the pain she held in her chest, and by the time she managed to rub her tears away, the Barton family had disappeared.

The concept of time was muddled. She knew she had seen friends and family, faces unchanged from the many months of time. But Natasha felt like she’d met them many times over at this point. They came and they left and she cycled through all the greetings and farewells again and again. Exhausted with the confusion of the realm, she sat down. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

There was a pleasant scent on the wind. A gentle rocking sensation, a tickle in her ear, someone humming softly. Natasha opened her eyes to a view of wildflowers, the purple blooms dancing in front of an amber sky free of clouds or stars. The flowers spread as far as she could see, the plains rolling far. The wind was a comfortable gust, the entire scenery in a soft motion. Dark clouds churned in the distance.

Had moments passed or days? Had she been here before?

The lullaby on the wind became louder and Natasha realized it belonged to a soul sitting right next to her. She turned to see Wanda sitting amongst the flowers, braiding stems together. 

“I wish you were not here,” Wanda said, interrupting her song.

“But you know why I am,” Natasha replied.

“Yes.”

They sat there in silence, the sorrow passing between them without words. Wanda never mentioned using her powers to navigate difficult conversations, but Natasha knew of it. There was no other way that Wanda could appear at moments of darkness in Natasha’s life if the witch could not have felt it. Wanda finished the braid which Natasha could see was formed into a crown.

“You are a beautiful soul, Natasha Romanoff, and deserve beautiful things,” Wanda said, resting the crown on Natasha’s head.

Natasha closed her eyes, sorrow building in her chest without her permission. She furiously tapped down on it, trying to avoid regret. There was no reason to regret giving her life to gain a tool to save the universe. Wanda leaned into her, hugging her tightly, and Natasha felt the grief shift, passing through her to Wanda’s hands. Spirit lightened, she turned to look at Wanda.

But Wanda was gone.

Natasha looked up and saw the clouds part to the flat amber sky, storm moving along.

Natasha took the time to hike up the mountain. The cycles of night and day passed in moments without any real rhythm, so she even ventured to rock climb for a while, completely unconcerned with the concept of falling. What would it matter now? She was already dead.

Sitting on a rock on the top of the mountain, she could see the strange realm for what it was. A microcosm of biomes, each section clearly defined by their natural architecture. When you peered in one direction for too long, you’d find the other side would shift into something else, like a world that lived and breathed and molded to the thoughts within it. 

She explored a city, not entirely different from New York, with blank signs and empty storefronts. Some sections of it were completely destroyed like after the Chitauri invasion. Other areas were pristine, like Central Park, which opened up to a river suddenly. Obviously, no river ran through New York, so she followed it. It led her to a large chain bridge that Natasha remembered standing on in Budapest.

_It’s beautiful architecture, connecting the two sides of the city_.

She’d always liked the bridge, always feeling torn between the two sides. Her past and present. The Avengers and the fugitives. To do what was lawful or to do what was right.

“Natasha!”

She swung around, startled. Sam was across the bridge, waving at her. Natasha couldn’t help but smile sadly. They had rebelliously put Sam on the ‘unknown’ list, refusing to believe the readings of his suit disappearing. Unlike everyone else immediately on the team, no one had seen him disappear. But even with their wishful thinking, he was still here, proof of being decimated.

A moment later, he approached her and was enveloping her in a wide hug. “Am I glad to see you. How bad is it?” he asked. She deflated, expression somber as she pulled away.

“Bad,” Natasha said, the sheer thought of explaining all that had happened overwhelming. “Have you found anyone here? I’ve...” she trailed off, unsure what to call the previous encounters. They meshed together in her head as if she’d experienced them all at the same time.

“You’re the closest I’ve gotten to anyone,” Sam said. “I could see Bucky but they were out of reach-”

“‘They’?” Natasha asked, falling in step with him. Sam sent her a look that said _you’ll see_, and it was only a moment before the edge of the bridge was visible, opening to a wooded forest. Her eyes finally rested on the form of Bucky facing the river, holding hands with a woman to his right. A small smile rested on his face, a content expression Natasha couldn’t remember seeing on his face in the many decades she’d known him.

“...s’only a matter of time till Thor works out how to get us out-” the woman was insisting with an amused face.

“Oh, you’re sticking to that, are you?” Bucky asked, shaking his head.

“Oh, and your claim of knowing _Captain America_ is so much more believable.”

Bucky shrugged. “The punk’s persistent. Just wait till he punches his way through here. And how would _you_ know Thor? I only got a _glimpse_ of the guy before this mad world was set on us.”

“I was there when he first arrived,” Natasha could hear the woman say, which narrowed who exactly the woman was in Natasha’s mind instantly. She’d need to revisit Thor’s file to confirm it. “On Earth, that is. He was flailing like a drunk in the middle of a sand storm - well, it really was the Bifrost, but we didn’t know that at the time-”

But no matter how many steps Natasha and Sam took towards the pair, the bridge kept growing. 

“Bucky?” Natasha called out, but he didn’t turn.

“I tried that. Tried surprising them, even jumped down into the water and swam around, but nope, I always find myself walking this dumb ass bridge,” Sam grumbled as Natasha squinted at the woman. She looked familiar and Natasha wasn’t sure how. “Doesn’t seem to matter, as I can’t get near him and can’t actually talk to him either.”

“Have you found anyone else?” she asked.

“No. Just him and his new friend,” Sam replied. “I don’t even know how we got here.”

“Thanos did it,” Natasha said softly, looking over at Bucky with a pinched brow. 

“And I’m guessing you didn’t get here the same way I did,” Sam said in a low voice.

“No,” she agreed. “I did not.”

The talk that Natasha had with Sam was different from the others. The mission status to Fury, the farewell to the Barton’s, the comfort from Wanda. Sam was a mixture of understanding the mission parameters and yet prodding at things that didn’t quite make sense.

Natasha looked off into the distance, seeing a storm brewing there. “Half of the life on Earth disappeared with Thanos’ snap. It wasn’t until Tony arrived that he confirmed that Thanos had been doing such for years - which is why he was so prepared to overtake Earth in 2012, bringing that same ‘remedy’. It confirmed that Thanos had snapped away half of the universe in one small motion.”

“_Half_ of the universe?” Sam interrupted.

“He held a lottery on every living creature in the universe,” Natasha confirmed with a sigh. “Half of our friends, half of our livestock, our pets... all gone. It has been... harrowing.”

“What happened next?” Sam asked.

“After you were all taken, it was like the world stopped. All of the horrors... we didn’t know what to do. What do you do when half of life disappears in an instant? Weeks later when Tony returned we found an energy reading similar to when everyone was taken. So we followed it,” she said softly. “We followed it, intending to cut the gauntlet off Thanos’ arm and revert the madness that had taken over the universe, but only to find him laughing at us. That last burst of energy? It was him destroying the stones, his purpose fulfilled.”

“That asshole took all that time to find the damn things only to destroy them when he was done using them?” Sam asked sharply. Natasha nodded, that same gutted feeling of hopelessness from that day hollowing her stomach. 

“And how exactly do you know he actually destroyed them?”

“What?” Natasha blinked. “He didn’t have them. He wasn’t lying.”

“How do you know?”

Natasha frowned. Sam had a completely neutral expression on his face, looking out towards the storm that was slowly creeping on them. Something in her gut - that had never led her wrong before - had told her the titan had been truthful, and Nebula’s belief in Thanos had bolstered that.

No one had questioned it.

“I-” Natasha felt a sharp pain in her chest. “I don’t know. I don’t know if there’s any way we _could _know.”

Sam nodded, reaching to grip her shoulder. “You did what you could with the information you had.” 

Despite his calming words, Natasha could feel anger building inside of her. Because it made _sense_ for Thanos to lie. For them to seek him out one day, good sense overridden by emotion to enact justice or vengeance, and him to sit and laugh at them. Laugh at them thinking they could simply take them back when he’d already thrown them out into the wind.

A gust of wind suddenly blasted her face as realization dawned on her. Her sacrifice was useless if it was all a ploy and the Infinity Stones were actually hidden somewhere in their own timeline. 

“There were no more energy signatures to read. We had nothing else to go off of. It was a dead-end in the dead of space and we’d already lost everyone..._” _The words spilled out of her as Sam watched her with that placid expression. 

“And now I’m dead,” Natasha finished softly.

Wind swirled around again, prompting them both to look up at the sky. There were dark clouds gathering in the distance over the city, shifting in blends of color. Natasha started towards it, the path back over the bridge.

“Have you seen this before?” she asked. Suddenly, lightning struck the ground in the distance and she felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. It was far more violent than any of her other experiences with this storm that seemed to follow her.

“Sam?” she asked, turning. He had disappeared. She felt his disappearance like a punch to the gut.

_Just like before_.

Looking over, she could see Bucky and the woman in the distance, standing now as the storm came closer. They were ignoring it, the woman's arms around Bucky as she squeezed onto him tightly, face scrunched up.

Another flash prompted Natasha to look up. The very ground seemed to come alive underneath her, pulling her soul down, grounding her from the stabs from the sky. Whatever this realm was, it did not want to give her up to the storm.

Checking on the pair, she could see Bucky cradling the womans face. Another lightning strike hit the ground and Natasha could _feel_ it course through the ground, searching out the souls. She kept her eyes on the pair, certain they’d disappear, that same energy running through the ground, zinging past her to the couple, and she could see it connect on their forms and shoot up into the sky.

They were gone.

The storm stopped as suddenly as it had appeared. She stumbled away from the bridge, tripping on the chunks of concrete and the flower crown flew off her head. The petals were singed. 

Whatever purpose it had, it was irrelevant now.

Natasha picked it up and placed it back on her head, regardless. Squaring her shoulders, she kept going, kept searching for something unusual, but the world had shifted after that storm. The scenery still changed, but it was less vibrant. Instead, the colors of the world had drained, leaving a muted and depressing landscape.

She couldn’t find a single soul. They had all gone. It should have been good news, but Natasha still felt uneasy, like something was still meant to happen. She wracked her mind, going over the mission over and over. What happened in the other timelines? While her and Clint’s mission had been straightforward, their hiccup was no small thing. If any of the other teams had similar problems, how did they manage to save all who were here?

“Hey Red.”

Natasha whipped her head around to see Tony standing there, wearing his typical three piece suit and sunglasses obscuring his eyes. He wasn’t even looking at her, scrutinizing his own body as if surprised to see it.

“Tony,” she said. “What happened?”

He scoffed. “Everything went to shit.”

Natasha waved to the world around them. “I can see that.”

Something about his form seemed brighter to her than her own body.

“Bruce was able to bring everyone back, as far as we could tell. Even those who had died from all of the accidents that followed,” he said, pulling his sunglasses off his face to pocket. Turning, Natasha could see the scorch marks up the side of his face. “Succeeded in every place except-”

“Me,” she said.

“Obviously, it didn’t work.”

“I have to be here otherwise the gauntlet wouldn’t work. But that does explain some things I’ve seen here, though, so... thanks,” she said, thinking of the storms. She gave a small smile before frowning. “But if you’re here-”

“Had to be this way,” Tony said. “Only one shot. But Morgan and Pepper are safe, able to live out wonderful full lives - despite the wreckage - and I can sleep.”

Natasha felt her mouth open slightly, confusion warring within her. If everyone was pulled back, they had the Time Stone, and presumably someone capable of handling it. Why couldn’t they bring Tony back?

“You’re off?” she asked. “What about-”

“Tell them this was for keeps,” Tony interrupted her. “I’m not risking it.”

If Tony was _dead_, then what was she? She wasn’t one of the souls caught here. Wasn’t she dead, too? Was something wrong with her and there was some place further on? “Where are you going?”

“Does anyone really know?” Tony quipped. His form began to shimmer and he pulled his sunglasses back out, placing them on his face, ever trying to obscure his emotions. “Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff,” he said in a quiet voice. She couldn’t help but blink as his form began to shudder and fade away.

“Goodbye, Tony Stark.”

Natasha found the field of wildflowers once again. The now muted blooms swaying in the wind and she felt the ebb and flow of air soothing. Laying on her back, she spread her arms wide and watches the purple buds dance across her sight.

There was no one left. She was alone.

The amber sky was empty of stars.

Time blurred.

She began to feel like she was floating on top of the flowers, rocking back and forth like a boat on a tumultuous sea of color. She waited. The gentle rustling continued. She tried to ignore it. Tried to stop thinking. Tried to stop.

A purple haze floated across the sky. Natasha realized in a thoughtless way that she could see the stars, even through the clouds. They were beautiful.

Then she suddenly sank, pulled under the flowers and finding water spill over her face. A few beats passed before she felt a burning sensation in her chest and she realized she needed to breathe.

Flailing, Natasha sat up suddenly, water dripping into her eyes that she quickly tried to rub away. A chill hit her body, the first she’d felt in what felt like ages, at the same time the burn of muscles and skin and roaring sound hit her ears. Natasha squinted around, eyes stinging, noting the sand dunes in the distance and the strange moons in the sky.

_Vormir_.

Confusion hit her hard. She gasped for breath, the roar shifting into a high pitched hum and she grabbed her ears. Natasha tried to shake the pain off, which brought the sight of Steve a few feet away, under the shallow water, eerily still to her attention.

“_No,_” she said, instantly up and clumsily splashing water around as she reached for him. Natasha managed to pull him up, keep his nose above water, and pull him to a small sandy embankment which seemed to make up this violet planet. “Steve? What...?”

_What did you do?_

Natasha struggled for words, her mind having trouble processing what happened. The suddenness of _existing _again was causing her limbs to tingle with sensation almost forgotten, her lungs struggling to remember the pattern of breathing. Nothing felt natural, but her lack of breath reminded her to put her ear to his mouth. His breath was shallow, his head was bleeding, and he was as sopping wet as her. She thought fast, the sheer possibilities of how she was here and how he was injured too surmountable to process.

Steve’s eyes opened a sliver and he gave a pained smile. “Nat-”

“Don’t,” she said. Muscle memory was sluggish, but training took over as she struggled with her hands, fingers unable to grip zipper on the pouch that she knew held more Pym Particles. Relief coursed through her when there were multiple vials there, some broken, but still plenty for him to go home. It was only then Natasha realized she was still wearing her tac-gear and the watch on her wrist glowed up at her, completely undamaged. They could _both_ go home.

“It worked-” he started, blood spurting out of his mouth.

She hushed him and loaded the Pym Particles into each of their timepieces. Relief coursed through her that the devices were locked on home. The future was there, a beacon shining bright.

“Hold on, Steve,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. Natasha slowly stood, shakily pulling him up with her, so she could navigate the two of them through the Quantum Realm with hopefully no mishaps. She pushed a button to start the device for launch, which prepared by snapping their helmets over their heads, and slowly counted down together until zero, where they both disappeared.

Steve’s feet touched the ground before her own, his weight causing her to stumble as she tried to keep him upright. The platform swayed under her as she gritted her teeth to focus. The journey had been a terrifying set of twists and turns, and with her feet on the ground, she finally felt relief. Were they home?

Yelling.

The voices around her were so loud, indistinguishable through the helmet. She ripped it off her head, the scent of pine assaulting her nose and making her feel even more dizzy. “Steve... Steve’s-” she slurred, thoughts pinging faster than her mouth could manage, “-sinjurrred.”

She was having trouble seeing. Everything was a blur of muted color. The yelling continued, undecipherable, just a warped blend of tones that meant nothing to her. Nausea rose up to her throat and a hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, holding her steady. Steve was slowly extricated from her and she felt the world tip as a pair of arms swung under her to carry her.

A few phrases jumped out at her, such as “...wasn’t the plan...” and “...never seen his vitals so...”

She knew it was bad. Then last of her adrenaline faded and she sank into a cocoon of darkness.

“What do you remember?”

Sam’s question was soft. Kind. Careful. Natasha glanced at him, his form blurry to her as her vision still hadn’t fully returned, replying, “a world without stars.”

She can feel the texture of the blanket underneath her fingers. The knit was coarse, more utilitarian than comforting, but the rough yarn was beautiful. She wanted to bring it up to her face, to see every tiny twist of cotton, but resisted the urge with Sam looking at her with such concern.

The room was cramped, but she supposed it didn’t matter since she hadn’t had many visitors. Natasha assumed they were testing her, just as she would if she was presented with someone who was supposed to be dead, so only Bruce and Sam had seen her so far. Her hearing had come back slowly and her vision remained fuzzy. The most consistent thing was the fierce _smell _everywhere, a musty scent of old buildings against stinging bleach of medical equipment all vying for dominance, burning her nose.

“How did you get there?”

Sam was there to test her, she could tell. It wasn’t an interrogation, no, but a maze of correct answers to still _be_ Natasha Romanoff. She was glad it was Sam, though. He was a friend without being tied to any of her dark pasts. He could read far more into what she wasn’t saying with the little she could push past her tongue.

“I-” she started. A pause as she tilted her head at him. Consideration of the weight of words, if Sam could carry them before she finished with, “-fell.”

“Why?”

“Whatever it takes,” she whispered, looking away. It felt dirty to use Steve’s words - like she was blaming him - after all he’d done for her. Natasha wasn’t even sure if he had survived. She’d been terrified to ask.

Sam lifted his ankle to rest on his knee, leaning back in the chair like he had all the time in the world. When he put his mind to it, he could be incredibly patient. He was waiting for something from her, but she wasn’t sure what.

“How long?” she asked.

“Hmm?” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“How long was I dead?” The words finally worked their way out of her throat and she sighed in relief. It was frustrating to feel slower than her norm.

He looked down thoughtfully. Bringing his eyes back up to meet hers, he said, “we don’t know. Bruce estimated around three days due to the condition on your body.”

Natasha absorbed this without reacting. Another moment passed before she finally asked, “did Steve die?”

“No!” Sam’s reaction was instant. “You can go see him if you want. We weren’t sure if you were up for it.”

Confused, she felt her eyebrows furrow. They hadn’t been holding her? With a sigh, she realized that the only one keeping her locked up was herself. She didn’t know what world was behind that door, who she would see, whose guilt she’d have to carry. Especially if Steve died.

Pushing herself out of bed, Natasha fought for the graceful balance she’d always held. Every step reminded her of how long her body must have been silent and still at the bottom of that cliff, estimates be damned. A creaking pain through her joints was a small price to live, though.

“Let’s go,” she gritted out as Sam jumped up to offer her his arm. She took it. There was no point in offended pride. Her body had been broken and Natasha had her work cut out for her to bring it back to normal.

“Just be prepared. He’s in bad shape. Worse than we’ve ever seen him,” Sam said. Natasha nodded. If anyone else had said that, she’d be skeptical. But Sam had sat with Steve after the Triskelion fell.

The hall was deserted. Natasha mentally started to map out the facility, realizing how unfamiliar it was, but it could be any military installation on the eastern seaboard. “Why aren’t we... at the Avengers Facility?” she slowly asked.

Sam shook his head. “Destroyed. When we returned, it had already been attacked. It’s just a flooded mess of trees right now.”

Idly, she wondered where Clint was. Did he remain close? Or was he back at the farm, relieved at having his family back, trying to put the horror behind him? Natasha knew that despite knowing there hadn’t really been a choice, he would blame himself. 

Did he even know she had been brought back and he needn’t carry that blame?

Bucky was stepping through a door as they arrived to it. He flashed a smile to her and nodded, “‘bout time you got up.”

“How is he?” she asked. 

“He’ll be up and punching people any day now,” Bucky said like he was trying to convince himself.

“I’d like to go alone,” Natasha stated.

The boys shared a look. A small nod passed and Bucky pushed the door open for her. he muttered in Russian as she walked through it into a darkened room.

Natasha nodded before shutting the door. Closing her eyes, she could hear the pinging of machines, the gasps of an oxygen tank, the steady hum of monitors showcasing their readings. After a deep breath to calm her fear, she turned.

Steve laid on the bed with his eyes closed. He was pale with deep bruising under his eyes and a large swath of bandages wrapped around his head. The IV in his arm was connected to multiple bags, the plastic veins of medicine having been woven into him. He looked diminished somehow, like a swift wind would carry him off despite his height, collarbone jutting out from his skin sharply. 

He hadn’t been eating right before their mission. But neither had she.

Natasha stepped closer, seeing a swivel chair next to him and sitting gently on it. It gave a small protest and alerted Steve, who opened his eyes. A ghost of a smile made its way onto his face as he reached out with his hand.

“It worked,” he whispered. Natasha looked down at his hand, reaching out to take it in hers. Tears dripped down her nose, landing on her arm.

“But at what cost?” she whispered back.

“Nothing important.”

Natasha glanced back up at him, finding that his expression was unchanged.

“I’ve lived my entire life having things torn away. I couldn’t function, knowing that I could get you back,” Steve said. 

“You thought it, Steve. You didn’t _know_,” she replied. “I’m not worth the good that Captain America brings-”

Steve coughed, shaking his head. “You are. You are the heart of our team, Natasha. And that good will still continue. I gave Sam the shield.” He sent her a weak smile, eyes pleading. “The world doesn’t need me anymore. It has good men fighting the good fight,” he said. “For how badly the world always seemed to need me, it always told me I didn’t belong. When I was young and sick, I had Bucky to tether me, keeping me from becoming completely lost in the ideals of a future where justice and truth and respect prevailed. Then I came out of the ice, the future shiny and bright... and the world still told me I didn’t belong, that those ideals were _antiquated_. But then you came and tethered me to reality yourself.”

Natasha wiped at her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with appreciation for the man next to her. He squeezed her hand.

“We spent years searching for Bucky. How could I leave you there when I knew exactly where to find you?”

“But look what it did to you,” she refuted.

“I don’t need it. I was a good man before the serum. I’m a good man without it,” Steve said. “And it’ll be nice to give the other guys a shot for once.”

Natasha let out a shaky laugh, looking up at Steve. His eyes twinkled despite how gaunt and tired he looked and she a strange breathless moment passed where she could see stars.

Natasha looked over the ruins of the Avengers Facility, still a gaping hole in the earth, as she thought over all the time that she missed.

There had been much contention over Tony’s death. While many were able to accept it, others prodded and pushed to use Time Stone, to bring Tony back, revert a death that could have been avoided. However, Dr. Strange refused, citing more research was necessary if any was to attempt.

No one wanted to accidentally bring Thanos back. Strange eventually confirmed that Tony’s fate was so intricately tied to Thanos that the likelihood of returning Tony _as he was_ was nigh impossible.

So Steve took the stones to their respective homes, along with Mjolnir. Natasha wished she had seen him lift the hammer, but he had returned everything before heading to Vormir. He hadn’t known if his sacrifice would be enough, so he left it for last. But in true Steve fashion, like hell if he wasn’t going to try.

Their work continued in a different capacity, neither of them able to do more than light field duty as their bodies had met their limits. Steve would feed intel to Sam while watching a monitor, conferring with Natasha as they worked in the background. They were a safe distance away, coordinated and effective at circumventing even the most difficult of missions.

The world was just as unprepared for the wave of Returned as it had been for the Decimation. This time a surplus of adults and children wandered the streets as they cried out for their loved ones. Phones rang off the hook as those Returned asked the world around them, _what happened?_

There was still pain and blood and tears, but there was a promise of the future.

After all, they’d all come home.

An orange streak spread over the rubble, still not quite cleared away as rebuilding the facility wasn’t a priority. Shadows were chased by the colors and Natasha looked up at the sun rising. A twinge in her hand caused her to grip her palm, a shake in her body that just wouldn’t go away no matter how she much effort she put in. Her body would never recover to its original strength, her vision impaired and body prone to random spasms she couldn’t control.

Steve stepped up next to her, nodding at the sunrise. She gave him a slight smile, taking in the silver at his temples that had been hiding underneath his bandages. While Natasha’s struggles with recovery had been tough, they’d been harrowing for the man next to her.

The serum had completely healed him of all his childhood ailments, but his sacrificed stripped away it’s support, leaving the man as just a man. Bones had been broken, tissue damaged, but he persevered. Recovery was slow, Steve struggling to put on any mass as his organs healed at a glacial pace.

But it didn’t matter. He survived. 

They both had.

And the sun rose again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally I can put this Endgame Fix-it to rest. 
> 
> thanks for reading, my [tumblr](https://snailsarecute.tumblr.com/). <3

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, my [tumblr](https://snailsarecute.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
